My father-in-law stood under the chandeliers at our fifth anniversary gala, called me a charity case with a grease-monkey father in front of 550 investors, and watched my husband grin like humiliating me was part of the entertainment

In the days that followed, federal agents raided Randolph’s offices within forty-eight hours. Computers were seized. Servers boxed. Staff interviewed. Vendors subpoenaed. Old transactions resurfaced and formed patterns too obvious to ignore. Randolph was indicted on fraud, conspiracy, wire offenses, and tax charges broad enough to end the rest of his career. The newspapers loved the story.

Prescott’s destruction was less dramatic and more intimate, which made it more fitting. He bounced from a hotel to a rented room. His name was radioactive in finance. Eventually he took a job at a call center selling low-tier insurance policies to tired people who hung up on him mid-script. He wore a headset. He lived on canned soup and humiliation.